Reviewing for Michelangelo
by 54Viruses
Summary: Mikey wants good reviews, but is he really worried about his poem?


I do not own the TMNT.

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Mikey chewed on the end of his pen. After checking the grammar and spelling through he rewrote the poem on a clean piece of paper and signed his name at the bottom. He threw away all the scraps and bits that he had used while he waited for the ink to dry.

Finally he carefully lifted the paper and slid it into one of the protective cover slips April had given him and clipped the sheet into a binder. The sheet looked rather lonely, as it was the first to be put in there, but Mikey would fill it up eventually. First he had other matters to attend to.

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It was the strangest sensation, like feeling one side of your body slowly turn to jelly. Kit looked up in surprise as this strange sensation seeped through her skin and into the deeper tissues of her arm and side. She glanced to that side and regretted the decision instantly.

Big, round, sad eyes of the purest shade of crystal blue stared back at her. They had a somewhat miserable quality to them and a pool of moisture gathered at the bottom, threatening to spill over onto the orange cloth surrounding these eyes. In addition to these pathetically sad eyes was just the faintest ray of hope, nearly obscured by a slightly trembling lip.

For a second Kit choked, resisting for an awesome two full seconds before sighing. "What is it Mikey?" The eyes blinked, immediately replaced by slightly squinted pinpricks of joy as he burst into his soon to be patented grin and jumped onto the couch beside her.

"Could you read this for me and give your honest opinion?" He asked, handing her a thin binder. Kit took the hunter orange binder and wondered how long it would take before Mikey went completely blind to the head-ache producing color, maybe he already had. She opened it to the only page and read the poem for a second.

Her expression grew grim, she frowned. This poem just didn't make any sense. Kit had never gone crazy over this symbolism style and the rhythm was completely off. The writing just felt like it was being pushed slowly and painfully past her vision. When she finally came to the last line of verse she had to blink until her brain functioned normally again. She didn't understand it; he was usually such a good author.

The worst part about the poem was the fact that the side of her that Mikey was sitting on had started to get that jelly feeling again. He had asked for her honest opinion, and complete honesty was all that he would accept, but how do you tell those big blue eyes his poem stank on ice?

"So, um, why exactly did you want _me_ to read this?" she sent up a prayer that he wouldn't notice her sad attempt to procrastinate.

"Because it's poetry, you read poetry right? Those psalm thingies." Mikey grinned like she was being silly asking such an obvious question.

Kit glanced back at the paper. This was no psalm or even a poem; this was a horrible crime of literature that should be burned and then burned in effigy annually to make sure such a mistake was never repeated. If Kit thought this was such a miserable failure it was a good thing Mikey hadn't asked Donnie or even Leo about the poem, they would probably cry or something.

"Well, I'll uh…" her skin tingled slightly, she didn't have to look to know he had brought the eyes back out. "I think this is…" The words refused to come out of her mouth. One accidental glance over at Mikey and she was completely done for.

A smile spread across her face. "Mikey, I think you've truly outdone yourself. This is great." She waved a hand over the paper, the dratted, dratted paper containing that poisonously horrible piece of work. "The symbolism, the rhythm, it's really something!"

Her monster of a lie was rewarded with a big smile and a quick hug. "Thank you! I knew you'd like it!" He took the notebook back and skipped off happily.

Kit groaned and sunk down in her seat, she might never forgive herself for telling such a huge lie. She felt unclean somehow.

This wasn't fair, she was a year younger than he was, the little brother act wasn't supposed to work on her!

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Mikey snickered in his room and waited until Kit had left the monitoring area. When the coast was clear he slipped out and went to sit just a couple yards from Leo. After taking a calming breath he blinked his eyes several times and then pouted until they were just a notch less pathetic than with Kit.

Leo started to show signs of agitation as he came out of his meditation. He blinked and glanced over at Mikey. For a moment he seemed to cringe, and then he sighed with resignation. "What is it Mikey?"

Mikey grinned and hurried closer to his brother. "Leo, could you read this and give me your honest opinion on it?" Mikey grinned brightly, holding out the binder containing that shell-awful poem. It had nearly made his writing hand bleed to write so badly. The poem wasn't even a poem so much as a collection of words thrown together with the vague hope of looking purposeful, but it was necessary.

After all, without proper training a ninja's most valuable skills can become dulled and useless; Master Splinter said so.


End file.
